The Neverending Horror Story
by Eisblume
Summary: Something is rotten in the Wizarding World. Poor Harry is hallucinating and the worst thing is that it seems to be contagious. An odyssey through 1001 clichés feat. Neanderthal!Ron, elaborate wedding schemes and the darkest of dark & dubious family secret
1. Once more, with feeling

**Disclaimer:** The characters you recognise from the books are obviously not mine. I'm not making any money here either. Wouldn't that be nice...

**A/N:** I appreciate constructive criticism, but if you absolutely hate this story, please refrain from telling me so without pointing out what you would do better.

Since this is a parody, it goes without saying that it is not to be taken too seriously. I know that there are only so many different scenarios - and I've read many very well written stories that used the most clichéd settings - but I find those quite funny nonetheless.

I'm trying to weave as many cliché situations as possible into this story (a truly tricky undertaking), so if you think I forgot something, please let me know.

With that said, enjoy :-)

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Prologue  
One fine day

There she was. On a friday afternoon. The weather was heavenly, but of course, she had to sit around inside.

And of course, that was due to Harry Potter and his friends. Was there ever any mayhem in this school without it somehow relating to Harry Potter? Since this boy had come to Hogwarts he had managed to get himself in trouble at least once a year. The boy was too adventurous for his own good.

Minerva McGonagall shook her head to herself. Well, like father, like son.

Even so, she couldn't stop the small smile that was tugging at the edges of her mouth as she watched Potter and Weasley duck from Hermione Granger's angry glares and setting to work on removing the mess that the second years had produced in this classroom this morning.

Minerva McGonagall's smile widened. This punishment was indeed adequate. The sight before her was at least a little compensation for the otherwise wasted afternoon. Severus must have guessed how she would react to being informed that she would have to supervise a group of ten delinquents this weekend. That must also be the reason why he had declined to oversee the punishment himself. It couldn't be because he wanted to enjoy the nice day outside instead, at any rate.

"Professor McGongall?"

She adopted a serious expression and turned to Hermione Granger. "Yes, Ms Granger?"

"Are we doing this wrong? You were frowning..."

"No. Go on." She waved in the direction of the basket of carnivorous cacti they had to transfigure back into hedgehogs. Some of the plants were running around rather fast considering their short legs. And these were the less annoying results of the second years' practice this morning.

From the corner of her eye she noticed that Hermione Granger was still watching her, as if trying to read her mind. Sometimes it was downright scary how perceptive this girl was.  
Minerva McGonagall turned to the window and watched the people happily milling about outside. When she was positive that all her students were working again, she allowed herself a grin.

Maybe it had not been the wrong decision to become a teacher. Sometimes the students were really getting on her nerves, but as she stood there she suddenly noticed that days like this made up for all the stresses and strains. Actually, the reason why she was here today was so absurd that it was funny.

The story Potter and his friends had told her was absolutely ridiculous, and to be perfectly honest she still wasn't sure what to think of it.  
How exactly Severus had gotten involved was still rather unclear to her. However, as amusing as the whole thing was, such behaviour of the students couldn't be tolerated.  
But it was a fact that she had hardly ever laughed so hard. After they had all left her office, of course.

"Professor, that _thing_ tried to bite me!"

Minerva McGonagall rolled her eyes heavenwards before turning to the source of the wailing voice. _Bite me, indeed. _"If you had concentrated a little more, that would not have happened, Mr Malfoy." She silenced the inevitably following protest with a stern look. "Spare us your speeches. Hurry up, you still have a lot of work to do."

She decided to conveniently ignore all further mumblings and complaints.

_If Severus weren't Severus, all this would probably not have happened...  
I must not forget to give him some ginger bread this evening to show my gratitude..._

Albus would be back at Hogwarts for dinner. Normally, she wasn't one to tell anecdotes at the dinner table, but in this case she was already looking forward to retelling everything in great detail, even if it would take some time. She turned back to the window.

This was really one fine day...

**  
****Chapter 1**  
**Once more, with feeling**

It all started in September. Of course it did, because when else would a story start? It was one of the last warm days of the year. For now, we can disregard this seemingly negligible fact, but later on it will be of some importance. Birds were chirping, the sky was cloudless and the trees were swaying in a soft, refreshing breeze.

Our scene is set at King's Cross in London, because where else could a story start if not here? While in the Muggle half of the well-known train station everything was as usual - well, aside from a family that, considering the beautiful day, unduly seemed to be quite ill-humoured... An obese man who was incredibly red in the face was constantly fulminating about owls of all things and thereby attracting more than just a few curious stares, making him only angrier, a burly boy was pressing a hand against the left side of his face, screaming from the top of his lungs, and a bony, hysterical woman was trailing after them - but that is another story for another day...

Well, be that as it may, nothing was unusual on this peaceful day. The bees were buzzing, the birds were chirping, and a boy shoving a luggage cart loaded with an enormous trunk and a cage covered in a piece of cloth was in the process of walking through the wall between the platforms 9 and 10. This boy was not only sporting a scar on his forehead but also a big grin.

"Well done, Hedwig," he whispered, affectionately patting the snowy owl's head. The boy smiled lost in thought as he remembered the recent rage attack of his pet.

Just as he had nearly vanished through the wall and thought he had made it, he triggered a disastrous chain of events, starting with an untied shoelace that resulted in his stumbling whereupon he tried to catch himself by grabbing onto the cover of the owl's cage. To his own surprise he actually succeeded, but suddenly everything seemed to happen in slow motion. He watched the cloth as it got entangled in the wheels of the luggage cart, stopping it with a jar, causing the boy to collide with said luggage cart rather inelegantly, in turn overthrowing his trunk and the cage with a loud clanking noise. He tried to prevent the worst, desperately snatched trunk and cage and jumped forward in a not exactly graceful manner. That way he would at least be out of sight quickly. As he landed in a heap on platform 9 3/4 he could almost empathise with Uncle Vernon who was always in danger of having a heart attack for fear of being seen in an "abnormal" situation. But then again... no, maybe... not.

Right now he had better concentrate on his current situation. What if someone had seen him? There would be a commotion, the other students wouldn't be able to cross the barrier, the train would have to wait for them, they would all be late for school... A slow smile spread over his face. He would be a hero. They would throw him a party. Ooh yes. His smile faded. And then he would be expelled. And he didn't even have a good excuse. ‚Oh sorry, I attracted a little attention when I fell over my own feet and stumbled through a wall?' Just great. It wasn't enough that he was thought of as a hallucinating egomaniac. He could already see the headlines. _Harry Potter, the boy who was uncoordinated!_  
He listened intently, and his heart stopped. Through the barrier hushed voices could be heard. A child seemed to be directly on the other side of the wall, not three feet away.

"Muuummmm! Look! Look!" the girl screeched. "At the wall!"

Harry held his breath. And then released it.

"An Owl!"

"Of course, sweetie," someone answered, distracted.

Harry frowned. He almost felt a little insulted. Here he was, performing a rather brilliant stunt, and what captured this child's attention? "An owl..." he mimicked the girl grumpily. Scowling he got back on his feet and took in his surroundings.

King's Cross had been teeming with chattering people and now the silence was overwhelming. Only subdued buzzing could be heard through the barrier. The contrast was amazing.  
Harry sighed and sat down on a bench. He just had to come half an hour early, hadn't he? Not that he wasn't grateful to be away from the Dursleys. They had agreed to take him to London just as readily as he had asked for it, but _half an hour_ early! He had not even been finished cleaning Hedwig's cage when Dudley had grunted that they had to leave or something along those lines.  
Honestly. Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder if Dudley really belonged to the human race. Maybe he was some kind of horrible experiment gone awry that had somehow managed to escape after the enforcement of the law against experimental breeding.

Harry made a face. Despite these rather disturbing thoughts he was determined not to let anything ruin his appetite. He _would_ eat cupcakes later.

He frowned again as another thought occurred to him. Dudley had just pounded on his door and then, after his mission was completed, he had instantly vanished. It would have been exaggerated to say that his cousin respected his privacy as of late, but at least he seemed to be frightened of Harry since the whole Dementor-affair. Harry wouldn't have gone so far as to think that Dudley may be grateful for being rescued if possible. But the incident had definitely had one good side to it: the Dursleys left him mostly alone. Harry tried hard to suppress all cheerless thoughts and concentrated on the here and now.

The train was already there, but the doors were still closed. Nevertheless, he decided to give it a try and see if he could already board the train. He carefully looked around before pulling one of the doors open. Somehow he felt as if he was doing something illegal, even though that was ridiculous. Far and wide not a soul was to be seen. Apparently the doors were open. He got in and was just about to round a corner when he unexpectedly and painfully bumped into something. Seconds later he was lying on the floor. While he stood up to save at least a last shred of dignity, a shimmering powder trickled down on him. Before he knew it, it got in his nose and he had to sneeze repeatedly. He looked more closely at the something he had run into. Or rather the someone. It was a pudgy, bald man in uniform. Confused, he stared into the face of the equally surprised man. Harry assumed it must be the driver. He had never seen him before and often wondered if perhaps the Hogwarts-Express moved on its own.

"One of those impatient ones, huh?" Frowning the man shook his head. "Nobody gets in before I'm finished. Wait outside until you hear the signal to board." His further comments were limited to indistinct murmurings. "Wasted... overeager... clean up after them..."

Without another word to Harry he returned to doing whatever it was he had been doing previously. Harry just stood there, speechless, and blinked. Finally, he complied and de-boarded the train.

After he had been standing around, irresolute, for some time he glanced at the station clock and decided to sit down to begin with. The heat was stifling and slowly but surely he was beginning to feel a little dizzy.  
He took a deep breath and relished the calm...

Sooner than he had expected other students appeared little by little. Lunchtime was fast approaching and the temperature became unbearable. Suddenly a shadow was looming over him. He looked up.

"Harry!" Hermione squealed and threw herself around his neck. At least, he thought it was Hermione. He wasn't sure. He'd thought he had recognised her voice, but this couldn't possibly be her! All of a sudden he seemed to be overcome with something. The longer he looked at Hermione the more he felt as if all higher functions of his brain were inoperable. He felt a bit woozy, as if he was walking on cotton wool, and his primal instincts took control. He put on a confident, seductive smile, wondering were he suddenly got that skill, and eyed her from the tips of her hair to her endless legs and the painted nails of her toes.

Hermione giggled and blushed. Apparently, Hermione wasn't able to do anything but giggle today. She had drastically changed over the holidays. Her once bushy, brown, shoulder-length hair was now silky and sleek and reached her waist. And she was blond. Harry decided that he liked the change. But that wasn't all. Obviously, Hermione had decided to change her style of clothing along with her personality, in order to condignly accentuate the figure she hadn't had before the holidays. Never had Harry seen such a short skirt or tight top before. Hermione smiled a saccharine smile.

"Well, like it, Harry?"

"Hermione, is that you?"

Hermione giggled. "Of course, silly." she giggled again.

"I always thought you were a boring bookworm. What happened?" Harry asked. Hermione didn't seem to notice the rather blatant impoliteness this statement contained.

"Do you remember my cousin? The one from America? No? Oh, I suppose I never mentioned her. Oh right..." She giggled again. "I couldn't, I'd never heard of her either, until two weeks ago when she visited my family all of sudden. Well, she explained to me that my life is so boring, because I'm in the library most of the time. But that's going to change now, I'll make up for all the time I've lost and have so much fun! I missed out on so much! I just noticed how many cute guys are around in Hogwarts! I'm so glad I discovered that hair straightening spell, and it only took me six years to owl Lavender and just ask! With my new looks I'll finally have a chance with someone who is a little more attractive than Krum!"

She stared dreamily after Seamus Finnigan who happened to pass by.

"Anyway, my cousin enlightened me! She said that personality and intelligence are of no importance. To be successful I needed some racy clothes to begin with, that's why she took me on a shopping tour. Luckily, it's warm enough today for me to wear a midriff-bearing top, otherwise my piercing would be useless." She beamed at him and adjusted her top until it looked exactly like she wanted it to, which meant that her neck line was now considerably lower.

"So? What do you think?" She looked at him expectantly.

Harry inconspicuously wiped a bit of slobber from his chin. "You look great, Herm," he answered with an air of slippery charm, barely wondering anymore why he hadn't noticed his manly, breathy voice before. He had always thought that the changing of his voice lay well behind him, but this had certainly not been the result... And since when did he have a nickname for his best friend? But then again... his jaw had never dropped to the floor because of her either. Exactly. That must be it. But in his current condition these kind of thoughts were far too difficult for him anyway. He felt light-headed and exhilarated as his brain shut down once again. Strange...

Naturally, Hermione wasn't idle in the meantime and let her eyes roam over Harry appreciatively. Harry knew immediately what she was thinking. She seemed to notice that he had grown over the summer. The haggard schoolboy he had been before the holidays had become a muscular, manly... well... man. He was especially proud of his as usual messy, jet black hair that was falling into his eyes exceptionally casually today. Again, he smiled smugly (and wondered since when he was so good at that). Hermione looked deeply into his emerald green, sparkling eyes, as if she wanted to drown in them. Or maybe she was only trying to squint past the casually falling hair...

"You don't look so bad either," she said simpering.

Seemingly out of nowhere Draco Malfoy appeared. After ordering Crabbe and Goyle to vanish into thin air he marched right up to Hermione and whispered in his most seductive tone:

"Hey darling, are you new? I've never seen you here. A hot chick like you really shouldn't associate with losers like that."

With that said he put an arm around her shoulder, and that was Hermione's luck, because she suddenly found it difficult to breathe and she blushed a deep scarlet.  
Harry, too, was dumbfounded. Wow, THAT was Draco Malfoy? The ferret had really cast its feathers. That is if rodents had feathers... Whatever. Draco Malfoy was the epitome of a Greek god. His once pointy face had given way to a striking, much more mature appearance. His silky, loosely falling, angelic hair (never had Harry thought he would think up such adjectives in relation to Malfoy of all people) was shimmering in the sun and through his tight t-shirt his impressive upper arms were clearly visible. Over the holidays he had obviously spontaneously decided that muggle clothing would flatter his newly acquired figure and was now making allowance for that realisation. Much to the chagrin of his father who, judging by his cursing from the side of the scenery, had not yet gotten over the fact that his only son and heir hadn't shown up in robes but had rather decided to dishonour his family and befoul his whole family tree.  
How exactly could Draco's father even be here? He must have somehow managed to escape the enforcement of his sentence last-minute.

Harry swallowed. And rightly, because Hermione, too, seemed to be done with her examination of this veela-like appearance and was now smiling. While Harry was still confused and jealous because of the hungry looks Hermione gave Malfoy, Draco Malfoy was already one step ahead. He linked arms with Hermione and guided her to the train.

"So, what did you over the summer?" Hermione began to make light conversation with her arch enemy.

"I've been training Quidditch, of course. Where else do you think I got these muscles if not from sitting on a piece of wood? So, who are you?"

Hermione giggled, much to the surprise of all. "But Malfoy, it's me, Hermione Granger."

Malfoy's jaw dropped. "No way!" But he regained his composure quickly. "Well, that doesn't matter, I suppose. The pure-blooded community doesn't object to purely physical relationships with inferiors. It was about time that you made use of your potential." And Malfoy pleasurably looked down Hermione's plunging neck line and admired her potential, all the while continuing to talk about himself.

Harry pinched himself. It seemed to work, he actually seemed to be able to think in whole sentences again, now that he was alone.

"HARRY!"

Harry turned around. Ron was running up to him, gasping.

"Bastard! Punch him!"

Harry frowned. Apparently, Ron was still having some problems with this whole-sentence-thing. Then he realised whom Ron was following.

"Ron! Wait up!"

But it was already too late.

A completely changed Ron was rushing past him. The looks the female part of the Hogwarts students gave him were designative. But these changes had also a downside as Ron soon found out. His broad, manly shoulders crashed into the door-frame as he tried to board the train, and he cursed before repositioning himself and boarding sideways.

Harry hurried to follow him. The first thing he saw when he reached the train was Hermione in a heartfelt embrace with Malfoy. Ron seemed paralysed.

"Smart choice to take me instead of them. You have perfect timing, Pansy was getting on my nerves anyway. I never really found her pug face attractive. Not since I've seen YOU at the Yule ball in fourth year."

"Oh Draco..." Hermione giggled. "You've always been so mean to me. How will I ever be able to believe that you're not just using me to get back at your father? After all I'm just a mudblood," Hermione argued.

"Hermione, darling, how can you think that?" Malfoy cried dramatically - and in radical contrast to the self assured tone, dripping with arrogance, he had just used a minute ago.

While Malfoy sank onto his knees in front of Hermione and grabbed her hands, Harry got a surreal feeling. Something was definitely wrong here. He looked down at himself. Why hadn't he noticed his extremely muscular chest and arms this morning when he had looked in the mirror? If he had known that, he surely would have given Uncle Vernon a very special good-bye.

Malfoy sighed, attracting Harry's attention again.

"I haven't seen you as nothing more than a mudblood for quite some time now. I've always admired you!" He scratched his head. "Well, since you rebelled against my tyranny in third year and slapped me, in any case. No one had ever dared do that before."

Harry gasped. He never would have deemed Malfoy the masochistic type.

Just as Hermione sighed "Oh, Draco, I've always felt attracted to you. You're the only one who is intellectually my equal. Ron is so... so... simple minded in comparison...," the train lurched forward. Hermione stumbled into Malfoy's conveniently outstretched, strong, exceedingly manly, quidditch-steeled arms and together they gave the words "passionate kiss" a new meaning while Ron, suddenly enraged again, burst into the lovely scene and challenged Malfoy to a duel.  
Hermione seemed to have lost the eloquence she had just regained again and did nothing but giggle.  
The train began to jerk harder. In spite of the surreal feeling, the jerking seemed to be real.

"Harry! Malfoy... bash his face in...," he heard Ron grunt, as if through a loud swoosh, as Ron once again jumped Malfoy like a berserk. Funny, he didn't remember Ron as being quite so brute... Suddenly, Harry felt dazed as everything around him became dull and fuzzy.

"Harry!... Harry... (giggle)... (grunt)... Harry..."

The jerking turned to fierce shaking and Hermione looked concerned.

"Harry?" she asked, frowning.

"Harry!"

Harry startled and jumped up from the bench he had been sitting on. And screamed. How had he gotten here?

"Hermione? Your hair is brown!"

Hermione stared at him in a mix of confusion and concern.

"I'm glad you remember that. After all, we haven't seen each other for two months. What happened? You look as if..."

"I know," Harry replied bemusedly. "Strange, isn't it? I didn't notice the changes this morning either."

Hermione gave him a questioning look. "I just meant your jeans, they're completely torn at the knees. Did something happen?"

"Does Malfoy have anything to do with this? That bastard, if I..." Ron made his presence known.

Harry had a dim feeling of déjà-vu. He didn't answer Ron immediately, though, for he was preoccupied with something else.

"Did you change your clothes, Hermione? Weren't you wearing this tight..." Harry trailed off as the realisation hit him. Hermione blushed under Harry's scrutinising stare, and Ron, whom Harry had just now really noticed for the first time, looked slightly distempered. The red tips of his ears spoke volumes.

"Something wrong, Harry? Are you sure you're okay?" Hermione asked again.

She shook her brown curls out of her face. Brown. In contrast to her skin that wasn't tanned like it had been just a second ago. Hermione cleared her throat as she noticed Harry's gaze resting distinctly below her face.

Harry swallowed shaking his head and nodded in embarrassment.

"Umm. Yes. I'm okay, it's just... um, nothing."

Ron and Hermione seemed bemused. Now that everything was making sense to him, Harry felt obliged to avoid unnecessary trouble. "No, Ron, Malfoy didn't do anything with my jeans..." As soon as he had uttered those words he cringed, but Ron didn't seem to notice anything. All the better. "I just had a nightmare," he explained. "A very exhausting one..." he added when his friends still looked unconvinced. Shaking his head again he pulled himself together and got up. He still felt a little dizzy.

"I'll tell you everything later. Come on now, we have to find a compartment. We're the last ones out here. Do you think you could sit with me instead of the other prefects?" They had much to discuss, and not only some ridiculous dream. He needed to know what had been going on over the summer. Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance.

"Sure, but we have to stop by to get our instructions," Hermione assured him.

"And now, let's get in," Ron urged. "We really have to go now! My parents are over there." He groaned. "If you don't hurry up, Harry, mum will kiss _you_ good-bye, too, and rest assured you really don't want that. She almost didn't let me go, she insisted to come with me and personally make sure we were all right. There she is, come on now! Honestly! I'm sixteen, and she still doesn't believe me when I say that I can find my may to the train on my own." Ron continued muttering grumpily as he remembered the embarrassing scene.

Hermione who had watched the incident between Ron and his mother earlier from a safe distance couldn't suppress a giggle. Harry flinched. He just hoped that this awkward feeling would vanish sometime soon.

When Ron finally noticed Hermione's barely contained chortling he promptly changed the topic. "Let's go over there, that compartment seems to be empty."

And so they did. Soon it should prove to be the wrong decision, but that didn't make the following train ride any less spectacular...


	2. The joys of a train ride

**Chapter 2  
The joys of a train ride**

Alas, for the time being the three should get no opportunity for their private talk. Unfortunately, the crowd didn't part for them when they boarded the train. Amidst the scrimmage it wasn't easy to squeeze through the narrow corridor. However, they had obviously got in on the wrong side of the train; all compartments were already full. Only in the very last waggon they found seats in a compartment occupied by Parvati and Lavender. Harry had a feeling of déjà-vu again when he noticed a sleeping figure covered by a dark cloak slumped in the window seat.

"These already taken?" Ron asked in desperation, pointing to the empty seats. After wandering from one end of the train to the other Ron was slowly but surely losing hope.

"Come in," Lavender invited. "I don't think he'd mind," she added, nodding in the direction of the cloaked figure.

"Who is that?" Harry wondered.

"No idea, he was already asleep when we came in," Parvati informed. "There's no house badge on his cloak, but he's not in Ravenclaw, or Padma would have mentioned him. He's exactly her type."

"Maybe he's an exchange student from Beauxbatons!" Lavender cried. "That would be fitting..." She signed, swooning. "Tall, dark and mysterious... with a fitting name that has a nice ring to it... hmm... something like Pierre Aurel. Or Raoul..."

She was turned towards Ron, but seemed to be looking right through him.

"Oh yes," Parvati chimed in, "just look at his posture, he must be an excellent Quidditch player. And his hazel coloured eyes with the golden specks that can only be seen when the light hits his face in exactly the right angle."

Ron frowned. Were that supposed to be qualities of exchange students in general or of French exchange students in particular?

"The only "exchange student" Hogwarts has had in centuries is Viktor Krum, and he was not exactly good looking. Right, Hermione?"

Hermione ignored the question, rolling her eyes, and looked the person over sceptically. They couldn't see of the boy's face. He had dark hair and was wearing a standard black cloak that covered the rest of his clothing completely. It had no house badge on it so they didn't have the slightest clue as to his identity.

"I'm not sure," Hermione said, lost in thought. "I think we have a class together, but I can't remember his name."

"You know him?" Ron, Lavender and Parvati cried in shock, even though for different reasons.

"How about we get the luggage out of the way first," Harry tried to change topics before Ron could start arguing with Hermione. Luck seemed to be with him this time; Ron actually did change topics while Parvati and Lavender were alternately giving Hermione surprised and jealous looks.

"So, what was your dream about?" Ron asked eagerly, shoving his trunk into a corner. Harry sighed and Ron made himself comfortable in his seat. Obviously Harry had to prepare himself for a long story.

Parvati and Lavender were instantly hooked and leaned forward inquisitively. Maybe Harry didn't have as much luck as he'd thought.

"Uhm...," he began, throwing a nervous glance at the gossip-greedy girls. "I think I should finish my homework before I tell you the whole story..."

"Harry!" Hermione was aghast. "You can't be serious!"

"Call us when you're finished, maybe we can help you figure out the meaning of your dreams later." And with that they said their goodbyes and went to visit Padma and some of their friends.

Harry sighed in relief. "Well... were was I?"

Ron grinned, and Hermione sank into her seat, relieved. "And for moment I really thought you hadn't finished."

Harry's cheeks coloured slightly. "Yeah, well, you know... uhm... That wasn't, well, that wasn't exactly completely made up..." He smiled somewhat nervously, expecting a lecture. But Hermione disappointed him.

Her face merely took on a resigned expression. "You two really are unbelievable." She snorted and took a book out of her bag.

Ron was scandalised. "Hey, what did I do?"

While Ron and Hermione were engaged in their verbal sparring, Harry was pondering the right place to start his story. At last, he decided that the first thing to do was to make sure that it hadn't been a prophetic dream of some sort - however weird.

"Hermione?"

"Mhm?" She looked up from the book that she was currently reading as background information in her free time.

"Have you seen Malfoy today?"

Hermione only looked on in askance. "He was at the train station." She gave Harry a suspicious look. "Just like every year when school starts," she added extra slowly.

"And?"

"And? The usual." Hermione's face spoke volumes as she remembered the encounter. "He used Crabbe and Goyle as battering rams to clear his way to the train! He's just unbelievable! He-"

Harry had planned on steering the conversation in the right direction in an inconspicuous way, but obviously only the mallet method would work here.

"How did he look?"

"I'm sorry?" Hermione seemed to be lost for a second.

"Do you think he was somehow... different? Look-wise?"

Hermione looked confused and Ron, who was chewing on a sandwich that his mother had prepared him - very much to his dismay - swallowed the wrong way and needed ten minutes and a vast quantity of water to be able to breathe properly again.

Suddenly it seemed to dawn on Hermione.

"Harry..." A small smile played around the edges of Hermione's lips. "Why didn't you ever say anything?" Her smile changed into a frown. "I should talk to Ginny... But Malfoy?"Sie leaned forward and put a hand on Harry's forehead.

"Huh?" Now Harry was lost.

"Malfoy?" Ron squeaked. "Harry, did the Dursleys brainwash you? And since when are you..." Apparently Ron could not say it out loud - whatever "it" was - so he gestured wildly to show Harry what he meant.

Harry still sat there, blinking and confused. "I just wanted to know if..." He paused and his eyes widened.

"Ron! Why would I... him of all people, I mean if I would at all... well, thank you for your good opinion!" Harry was sure the heat radiating off his face added quite a bit to the melting of the polar caps.

Ron relaxed, obviously relieved.

But Hermione was confused again. "But if you didn't ask because of that, then what is it you want to know?"

"What I meant was... Do you find him attractive?"

"Well, Crabbe and Goyle are most definitely worse to look at, but that doesn't mean all that much, does it? So what if his looks are passable? His mean smirk distorts his features so much that there's nothing left of his face that would be worth a second thought," Hermione answered, her tone of voice suggesting that she was lost in thought. She shot Ron a cautious sideways glance.

"Sounds like you've thought an awful lot about it," Ron said extra casually. The foreboding undertone would have been lost on most people, but Hermione noticed the warning signals.

"Ron, everybody who has eyes will tell you that Crabbe and Goyle are the epitome off unattraciveness. That Malfoy stands out in comparison to _them_ doesn't make him good looking. Besides, even if someone actually found him good looking - I suppose Pansy Parkinson must see something in him - that still wouldn't mean that he is _attractive_. That takes a lot more. Any questions, Ron?"

"Yeah, actually I do have a question!" Ron looked horrified. "Harry, what exactly happened in your dream? It must have been terrible...," he added with a glance at Hermione.

Harry nodded and began to retell his experiences in the terrifying dreamworld in detail.

"Was this the first time you had such a dream?" Ron asked. "You know, dreams are said to show you your secret wishes... Didn't Trelawny say so. once?"Now that he knew that Harry was not secretly pining after Malfoy he found the whole thing rather funny and didn't waste any time in teasing Harry.

"Oh, of course, Ron! You really think Harry would want me to bleach my brain and you to go through evolution backwards? I doubt it," Hermione bit back.

Harry couldn't help but agree with Hermione. He could hardly imagine that this dream could have possibly brought his secret desires to life. At least, he hoped so...

"Harry, Ron and I have to meet the other prefects now. We'll talk later. Come on, Ron, we'll be late."

Harry sighed deeply. He seemed to do that a lot today. Since he hadn't much else to do, he got started on his transfiguration essay.

The farther north they travelled the colder it became. The stifling heat from the morning had all but vanished. When Harry glanced out the window sometime during the afternoon it was slowly getting dark already. Well, maybe the heavy clouds in the sky were blocking the light out. Just what was taking Ron and Hermione taking so long? Their stupid meeting couldn't be all that boring if they needed hours to return. A quick glance at the person sitting at the window confirmed that the guy was still sleeping. Bored out of his skull Harry leaned back in his seat. If only that essay were a little less uninteresting...

ooOOoo

Harry jumped as a door was slammed shut somewhere. Confused and sleepy he looked around. He must have leaned his head against the adjoining seat, because that was where he found himself now.

Ron and Hermione were back. But something was not quite right. Hermione was permanently smiling in bliss, whereas Ron was frowning. That couldn't be good.

"Hey, are you finished already?" Harry asked good naturedly. But it didn't help much, the tension in the compartment could have been cut with a knife.

Hermione seemed to be in ecstasy.

"Harry, guess what happened!" she cried excitedly. Before Harry could answer she was already babbling on.

"I'm head girl! I never thought that was possible! Professor McGonagall didn't mention it in the letter with the book list, but there was an extra envelope with a note pinned to it: _Open on 1st September_. The girl that was supposed to be head girl this year has vanished somehow. And since I have the best grades any sixth year has had in the last 264 years, I was chosen to take her place. That's such an honour! Harry, say something!"

But Harry found that he couldn't. He was completely dumbfounded and just sat there gaping like a fish. Hermione was head girl? How was that even possible? As far as he knew there had never been a head girl that was not yet in her last year of school. But he was afraid that Hermione wouldn't appreciate it if he asked why Professor Dumbledore relied on such an unconventional solution. Luckily, he was spared the dilemma of having to answer, because Ron decided to contribute to the conversation at that moment.

"That's not even the half of it, Harry. Is it, Hermione?" Ron sounded distinctly angry. What could it be that provoked such an ungracious reaction from Ron?

"Do you want to tell him, Hermione, or should I do it?"

Hermione's joy was gone in the blink of an eye.

"I actually forgot about that for a minute."

"Impressing achievement," Ron went on. "_Malfoy_ is head boy. Can you believe that?"

Now that was something Harry could indeed not quite believe. That had to be a mistake. For what reason would Dumbledore ever do that?

"Dumbledore wants to make use of the special situation to improve the inter house relationships and boost the students' sense of "togetherness". Don't make me laugh." Ron gave a bitter laugh. "But that isn't even the best of it. It seems the ministry has decided that Hogwarts is getting run-down. They say that it's too dangerous for the students; Hogwarts has to be renovated." Ron snorted derisively. "Just another harassment to bother Dumbledore if you ask me. Renovate? That castle is surrounded by a plethora of protective spells, but Fudge is afraid that someone might get entombed in a corridor? Oh, please..."

"What's that got to with Hermione?" Harry wondered. By now it was all Greek to him.

"Oh, yeah, that." Ron snorted again. "The letter said something else. I quote:

_I'm sorry to inform you that some unexpected awkward circumstances necessitate that you share your room with the head boy. Even though a separate room is usually part of the head girl's privileges, the school won't be able to provide one. Thus you will be able to discuss any problems that might arise associated to your duties as representatives of the school without delay. The spacial proximity will hopefully lead to more unity on other levels as well._

_Sincerely and with the best of wishes,_

_A. Dumbledore, etc..._

"THAT'S JUST UNBELIEVABLE!" Ron's voice had constantly risen in the course of his speech, by now he was shouting so loud the windows were rattling.

"Calm down, Ron!" Hermione screamed. Harry flinched.

"Malfoy may be an idiot, but maybe he betters himself when he's made head boy. You know, some people grow with their duties!" she yelled.

"DON'T TELL ME THE WHOLE THING DOESN'T BOTHER YOU AT ALL! ARE YOU INSANE?"

Harry would have loved to interfere, but he was still mulling over the fact that Hogwarts - with its hundreds of spare rooms - had to resort to making people share a bed. He was jerked from his thoughts by a shrill scream.

"Perhaps he is not all that bad! His father is in Azkaban! Maybe - without Lucius' influence - he'll start thinking for himself and stop parroting everything that's drummed into him at home."

Ron was stunned. "OH, NOW IT'S DRACO? WHEN'S THE WEDDING? OH, GO TO YOUR DRACO AND BE HAPPY WITH HIM!"

Harry's head was starting to throb. This was absurd, even for Ron and Hermione. He was about to say something to get them both to come around when Hermione burst into tears all of a sudden and bolted out the door.

"I thought you were my friends," she sobbed. "I never would've thought you'd give me the cold shoulder because of something like this..." The compartment door slammed shut with a bang.

"Harry!" Ron paused, bemused. "What's going on here?" Ron was obviously perplexed.

"Sorry," said Hermione who suddenly appeared to Harry's right. "There was a wind gust; I lost my grip on the door handle. Harry?" Hermine sounded confused, too. Harry opened his eyes fully and realised why that was.

The dark haired boy who had occupied the window seat was half leaning over him with his right hand slightly raised as if to hit him. Harry was so taken by surprise that he could do nothing but one thing: scream.

The dark haired boy in turn was so taken aback that he also screamed and jumped back.

He raised both hands in a placating gesture. "Sorry! I just wanted to wake you up. You were murmuring in your sleep and tossing your head so wildly that I thought you'd get a whiplash."

"Um... thanks... I think," Harry mumbled. So it had been a dream? Ron and Hermione had returned just now? What a day.

"Um, excuse me..."

"Yeah?" the dark haired boy said.

"What did I say?" Harry asked cautiously.

The grin that followed this question was more than ominous. Harry blanched. Where were Parvarti and Lavender? Hopefully far enough away...

"Well... It was about the head boy or something."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "That was all?"

The dark haired boy's grin broadened. Harry swallowed. "After that you just moaned and babbled about Malf..."

"What!" Harry, Hermione and Ron shouted simultaneously.

Meanwhile, the boy in the window seat was roaring with laughter. "Just kidding...," he managed to gasp.

"Just great, at least one of us is having fun here," Harry grumbled.

Hermione adopted her thoughtful expression once again. She looked as if she was supremely occupied with figuring out a great mystery.

"I've been meaning to ask you, do we have Arithmancy together?"

"Ancient Runes," the dark haired boy answered, smiling. "Frederick Kensington." He stuck out his hand, still smiling.

Ron flushed and grumbled: "Great, another Fred, what a nightmare..." But whereas Harry didn't miss that, Hermione didn't seem to notice at all.

"Oh, right. You're in Hufflepuff, aren't you?"

Harry raised his brows. Hufflepuff? No wonder Lavender and Parvati hadn't recognised him. They always claimed that Hufflepuffs didn't meet their demands; they didn't have enough esprit and were therefore under their potential-boyfriend-radar.

Harry suppressed a grin and shook his head.

"Are you taking Ancient Runes this year, too?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, of course. I don't understand why so many people find ancients scripts boring. It's fascinating to imagine that I can recite the very same spells that the first wizards ever have already used. In consideration of such a long history one feels so small, don't you think? Almost like looking at the stars and realising that you're nothing but an ant in comparison."

Hermione's eyes were shining when she realised that there was actually someone who could really get into something like Ancient Runes.

"Do you think that the meaning of Harry's dreams is written in some "ancient script"?" Ron muttered morosely.

"It was just a dream, nothing more!" Harry waved his arms about to emphasise his point. It was probably nothing, just his hyperactive imagination. All the stress last year. He didn't even want to start thinking about that again; he'd done enough thinking over the summer.

Hermione's attention was instantaneously focused on the problem at hand again, her Hufflepuff soul mate forgotten. She looked a little sheepish, because she had let herself get carried away.

"Your dreams seem to be rather vivid today, Harry. Are you sure that it's nothing?" She glanced almost imperceptibly at his forehead so Frederick wouldn't ask any questions. Harry got the hint and shook his head tiredly. He narrowly suppressed a yawn.

" You-know-who must be behind this!" Ron exclaimed.

Harry frowned skeptically and looked out the window. "You think Voldemort is sending me dreams about Malfoy?" Harry raised an eyebrow and turned to Ron. "Why would he do that?"

"Well, maybe he wants to drive you insane! And when you start thinking that you're interested in Malfoy because of all those lifelike dreams, then Malfoy can easily persuade you to help the dark side!"

Harry and Hermione looked at Ron with an expression of utmost mystification.

"Ron...," Harry began. "That's just... so..."

"Plausible?" Ron suggested.

"Actually, I was going for something along the lines of half-witted," Harry corrected. He was having serious problems and _that_ was all his best friend had to say on the matter...

Hermione seemed to be momentarily dumbstruck.

"No, listen, Harry!" Obviously, Ron didn't want to desist from his theory that easily. "If you think about it, it's not that unlikely."

But no matter how long Ron tried to convince Harry and Hermione, he couldn't argue them out of finding it not very probable.

ooOOoo

When they were stowing away their luggage in the dormitory that evening and Harry shook the remains of the strange glittering powder out of his cloak, he had long since started to studiously ignore Ron as much as possible.

Ron sneezed.

"Hey, watch where you're tossing that stuff! What is it anyway?"

Harry watched in amusement as Ron tried to shake himself dog-style to get rid of the glittery powder in his hair. Not very successfully.

"Dunno. The driver of the Hogwarts-Express poured it over my head this morning. That was before you and Hermione arrived. I thought I could try and board the train already, but no, of course not."

Harry shrugged.

"Don't worry, Ron. That stuff really becomes you." He smirked. "You look like Parvati when she's wearing her "festive day make-up"."

At lightening speed Harry – still laughing - ducked Ron's blow and pulled his blanket over his head. He could only hope that this night he'd get at least a little recreative sleep for a change.


End file.
